


I'm Just Going To The Store (Lancelot from Target)

by permitmevoyage



Category: Arthurian Literature - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Every line from this is a punch to the gut, M/M, compounding New England lore I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/permitmevoyage/pseuds/permitmevoyage
Summary: While being pulled in different directions, how will Lancelot and Arthur balance their work-life, relationship, and time with friends on top of worrying about their insufferable cat and Yvain problem? Turns out all it takes some ruined sports bras, tater tots, and some serious Orkney pwnage.
Relationships: Lancelot du Lac/Arthur Pendragon, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 1





	I'm Just Going To The Store (Lancelot from Target)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a joke and very funny in my opinion. I wrote this for the first edition of the Arthurianum zine a few months ago and thought we could all use the laugh right about now. Enjoy!

“Oh yeah? And what are you wearing?” Arthur giggles like a schoolgirl as he flops onto his bed, but makes a grave miscalculation, smashing his head on the corner of his side table. He lets out a string of expletives as he retreats to his fuzzy blankets for comfort.

“Art? Babe, are you okay? That sounded like a dying raccoon.” Lancelot chuckled over the line. His voice filtered through the speakers of the phone, concerned and amused, but mostly amused.

Arthur wraps the Minecraft blanket around him as he rolls his eyes, sighing in defeat. “God, Slotty, I’m sorry. I’ve already ruined this shit-brains idea of a sexy phone call. Is it even legal for you to be doing this on shift?”

There’s some fumbling on the other end and some muffled conversation before Lancelot replies. “It’s fine, Art. Besides, I think your raccoon impressions are hot as hell. If it’s any consolation, I’m just wearing Khakis, so I guess neither of us are really sex gods right now.”

Arthur jolts as he hears a loud bang against the wall behind him and a booming yell from the other side. “Can we booty call State Farm when it isn’t 2 am, King Idiot?”, shouts Gwen from the other side. Arthur winces and turns back to the phone.

“Okay, Art, I’ll let you go now. King Idiots need their beauty sleep, you know? I’ll see you tonight for dinner with Gwen and Morgan” Lancelot replies, muffled laughter running through his ears.

“Yeah, yeah, okay Sir Funny Guy,” Arthur grumbles, flopping back on the bed with a pout.

“Love you, babe. See you later.” The line crackled and cut out as Lancelot hung up, presumably to get back to his job and deny an insurance claim for some man cave that caught on fire due to an untasteful amount of tacky tiki torches.

Arthur huffs and wraps the TNT block blanket around him a little tighter. He looks at the framed picture of him and Lancelot, taken in Boston in front of that ice cream, fries, avocado by CHLOE store, with sad, longing eyes. At that moment, the hairless monstrosity that is their cat they pulled out of the dumpster jumps up on the bed with a drawn-out scream as he cuddles up to Arthur.

Arthur softly scratches behind his ears, burrowing into the pillow. “Oh, Supreme Chancellor, we’re really in it now.”

***

It’s about 9 am when he’s woken up by Gwen dropping the cat on his face. The wrinkly bastard howls and darts under the covers on impact, leaving Arthur to deal with the aftermath of claws in his face.

“Jesus Christ, Gwennie, what the fuck?” he says as he sits up, shoving the blankets to the side, and trying to assess the damage to his 2nd best feature, as Lancelot calls it. His first is, of course, the birthmark on his leg that has an uncanny resemblance to Newt Gingrich.

“Supreme Pain in the Ass ate my charger again, so you owe me a new one,” she says with a glare as she turns to leave. “Oh, and while you’re at Target will you get some mini M&Ms? Morgan ate them all.”

Arthur sighs, checking his phone for any pages from Lancelot, as he sees the little criminal peek out from under the covers. They lock eyes and it almost seems like the gremlin is smirking at him. “Traitor… I guess it’s time to go to the only place in Scumersworth that’s worth its existence.”

As Arthur peruses the aisles of Target, he does a double-take when passing the pet section. Could that be…Yvain? No, there was no way. Other than his Facebook post two weeks ago, no one has heard from him in weeks. The post was as cryptic yet beautifully haunting as the man himself: a blurry image of Bush’s Baked Beans still in the can, the handle of a spoon peeking out of the mush, with the caption “To destroy a God is not to become one, but to destroy the hope of their followers. Is rice pudding on sale this week?”.

“Hey man! What’s up? The gang hasn’t heard from you in a while.” Arthur pulls into the aisle and tries to wave Yvain down, but he doesn’t move. Yvain stays perfectly still, unblinking as he stares at the collars in front of him, hand to his chin as he ponders. His gaze on the items before him is intense, his eyes dry from minutes, maybe hours, of not blinking. It was as if the collars were drawing him in, sharing with him a secret, maybe even the one he had so desperately been looking for on Facebook all those weeks ago.

“Uh, nice chat! I’ll see you later,” Arthur says as he slowly backs his cart out of the aisle and makes his way towards the electronics and Lancelot.

Pushing his cart filled with a gallon of bleach and six boxes of Fruit By The Foot down the aisle, Arthur spots the back of Lancelot’s head at the electronic section’s help desk. He could spot that adorable little ponytail anywhere. Grinning like a dad after a successful “you’ve got something on your shirt” bit, he approaches the counter and tries to prop himself on the shopping cart in a way that makes his ass pop.

“Oh, excuse me sir, but I seem to have lost my way. Could you help me?” Arthur bats his eyes at Lancelot but finds that he doesn’t turn to face him. Confused, Arthur makes his way around in front of Lancelot, only for his confusion to triple. Lancelot’s eyes were wide open and staring unblinkingly in a manner that too closely reminded him of the incident that happened in the pet section. “Slotty? Babe, what the fuck?” Arthur shook his favorite bagpiper’s shoulder and Lancelot gasped awake, blinking rapidly.

“Oh shit, hey hottie. You shop here often?” Lancelot said as he quickly gathered himself, elbows propping up on the counter as if he didn’t just look like a haunting American Girl Doll five seconds ago.

Arthur looks incredulous yet endeared as he hears this. “Were you just asleep?”

The man behind the counter shrugs as he answers. “Yeah, just taking a quick nap. No big deal. What brings you to Target?”

“I needed to get some groceries and Darth Shittious ate Gwen’s phone charger, so I thought I’d say hi.”

“Don’t be mean to Pawpatine. He’s a good cat!”

“He’s a bastard is what he is. Speaking of cats, Yvain is in the pet aisle. I thought he was dead, bro,” Arthur looks back down the aisles he came from, hoping that uttering Yvain’s name won’t evoke his presence or the Bush’s Baked Beans curse. He shutters remembering what happened the last time Yvain showed up at his door with his cat, both in the signature blue aprons, hounding him for the secret recipe, and about what Arthur thought would be in the Market Basket coupon flyer that week.

Lancelot’s eyes nearly bulged from his head as he scrambled for the walkie-talkie. “Dude for real? He’s been standing there for three days! Nobody can get him to leave, let alone move. Every time someone even tries to touch him, he hisses like a goddamn 4th grader playing Warrior Cats or something.” He rolls his eyes and speaks into the walkie. “This is Vampire in electronics… Uh yeah, so it looks like Firestar is still in the pet aisle…copy that.”

“Vampire?”

“Yeah, I was talking to Diabolo and Enoby,” Lancelot says as he tries to fumble with the clip on his walkie-talkie to attach it to his belt.

“Right… anyways, where are the iPhone chargers?”

“The what?”

Arthur just blankly stares at Lancelot as his boyfriend looks genuinely confused by his question. “Honey, you work in the electronics section. How do you not know these things?”

He just shrugs and opens up his directory binder to look. “I don’t know. I’ve never had to charge my pager before. We never had this kinda stuff in Northwood. We just sent up a flare if we wanted to play with the neighbors two miles down the road. Oh, here it is! It’s the next aisle over.”

Arthur chuckles and kisses Lancelot’s cheek. “Never change, Slotty. I’ll see you later. Good luck with Yvain.” And with that, he heads towards the chargers to hopefully placate Gwen.

***

Arthur is trying to organize his Medieval wedding Pinterest board when Pawpatine sprints faster than Lighting McQueen under his bed, which could only be a bad omen. He shuts his laptop and prepares for the incoming storm.

Gwen comes into the room with her head in her hands. “Artie, I simply do not understand this cat. He chewed up ALL my sports bras. Literally, every single one.”

Arthur groans and fists his hair in frustration. “God, and last week he pissed on the Miku body pillow in the living room.” He falls backward onto his bed, hoping that the crude penis constellations made of glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling will ease his burdens. “I think he just misses Slotty. He barely has time to come over, not that I can blame him, but…” He trails off as his eyes start to water. Fuck, it was just so hard sometimes.

Gwen sits on the edge of the bed and brushes the fringe off Arthur’s forehead. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. It sucks not having him around. I miss him too.” She cards her fingers through his hair, trying to calm him down, and gets an idea. “Listen, tomorrow night is couples cross-fit night at Kettlebell so I’m gonna need those sports bras, but Morgan and I have to go to book club. Why don’t you go to JCPenney’s, visit Lance, and pick some up for me?” She smiles as his eyes light up at the mention of seeing Lancelot and he sits up, rubbing the tears out of his eyes.

“Yeah… yeah, that’s a good idea.”

It’s about 3:30 when Arthur enters JCPenney’s, and as much as he hates even being in this mall, he hates the traffic he’s going to have to deal with on the General Sullivan Bridge on his way home even more. Whose bright idea was it to build a four-lane highway, but reduce it to 1 ½ while under construction? The French, probably. Maybe Merlin. He’s a dipshit.

He’s looking around the racks to try and find the brand Gwen told him to buy when he hears snoring coming from the rack in the back corner of the section. Arthur cautiously makes his way over, only to find Lancelot asleep and covered in bras to stock on the other racks. He rolls his eyes and gently nudges Lancelot’s shoulder with his Croc.

Lancelot jolts up, bras scattering around him- one hanging from his ear- and dives into his retailer’s voice. “Hi welcome to JCPenney’s. How can I help you?”

Arthur chokes down a laugh as he takes the bra off his boyfriend’s head. “My knight in lacey bras, I need help finding some sports bras for our dear Guinevere.”

Lancelot gives a long exhale and gets up, brushing off the remaining bras. “Yeah, okay. She’s a medium and likes the Under Armour ones,” he says as he makes his way over to the rack.

“Wait a minute,” Arthur starts as he follows behind. “How do you just know that?”

Lancelot shrugs and grabs a couple he thinks she’d like. “I get them for her all the time. I get a discount here.”

Arthur just nods along at the man’s antics and follows him to the register to ring up. As they finish the transaction, he hears yelling coming from the break room, something about how the ‘bastards from Spencer’s were buying up all the Wetzel’s Pretzels again.

Lancelot hands him a bag and gives him that charming, country boy smile that always makes Arthur weak in the knees. “Hopefully with all the mall drama today I’ll be able to make it to trivia, love.”

Arthur swooned at the affection and grabbed the bag off the counter, his stress from earlier slowly melting away. “That sounds great. I’m sure the girls will be excited to see you.” He smirks and leans across the counter. “Now, my absolutely gorgeous Knight of Fox Run, kiss for good luck as I launch myself into traffic?”

Lancelot chuckles but obliges, leaning in to give Arthur a quick kiss before he leaves. “I’ll see you tonight, my ever-stylish King.”

Arthur walks away with a spring in his step, not even caring about the shit show he’ll probably face on the hellscape of the Spaulding Turnpike, and Lancelot longingly watches him as he leaves the store.

***

Lancelot saunters into the restaurant and weaves through the bustling tables, all looking ready to do what they must to win. There’s a pretty cutthroat crowd tonight. Once he spots Morgan waving him down, he slides in to sit next to Arthur and plants a kiss on his cheek.

Arthur grins at Lancelot, still dressed in his hot, red polo and khaki pants. “Hey, Slotty. You made it!”

“Yeah, Mordred staged a coup and we all got to leave early. Have we picked a name yet?”

Gwen grabs a couple of tots from the basket in front of her, man are those little suckers delicious, and pops one in her mouth. “Not yet. We’re torn between ‘Hovey Kinnies’ and ‘Knights of the Queer Table’.”

Morgan pouts and steals a tot off Gwen’s plate. “I’m still bummed we voted out ‘Light Gringolet Vore’ so fast.”

Lancelot glances over at Gawain’s table and sees that he’s already got his hat on backward and doing his Rick and Morty impressions. “It’s probably for the best. I’m sure Gawain wouldn’t like that, especially after our name last week was just ‘Gawain Sucks.’”

They all nod in agreement, ordering a round of craft IPA’s for the table, and kill some time before trivia begins. The four talk about their day, discussing the weird work experiences they had, and, surprisingly, it’s not Lancelot who takes the cake.

“So, I’m standing there at the fabric counter and who walks up to me but Gareth,” starts Gwen. “Now keep in mind, I haven’t seen him since the Orkney rager nearly a month ago when he tried to shotgun a beer while doing some kpop dance routine and slipped on Galahad’s disco pants.” They all shiver as they recall the scene. Now Nillili Mambo has been ruined for them twice. “And he slams this pattern on the counter and yells ‘I’m making assless chaps!’ and hands me a bolt of cowboy pinup fabric. And I’m like what the fuck, but I look at the pattern and unfold the right number of yards he’s gonna need. Then he tells me that Merlin is an anarcho-primitivist.”

Arthur starts cackling as he takes a sip of his beer and tries not to snort it up his nose. “Deadass? Like he thinks that we made a mistake moving from hunter-gatherers to farmers?”

Gwen throws up her hands in exasperation and huffs. “You think I know what’s going on in that whack-job’s head? Anyways, I think I’ve had enough of Orkney bullshit for a while. When do you have to leave for the State Farm office, Lance?”

He checks his watch for the time as he answers. “I’ve gotta leave around 10, so in, like, two hours.”

Morgan finishes off the last of the tots and raises a brow. “Why do you even work at Target, JCPenney’s, AND State Farm. Doesn’t insurance pay a lot?”

Lancelot shrugs and leans back in his chair, putting an arm around Arthur. “It does, but every penny counts. Julliard is expensive, even with the scholarship I got to play the lute. Besides, they all have the same uniform, so it’s pretty easy to go from one to the other.”

“Wait, you work at the shithole that is the Fox Run Mall because the uniform makes it easier? Didn’t Mordred say that there’s a clock covered in shit in the break room?” Morgan balks as she hears Lancelot’s reasoning.

Arthur leans into Lancelot and snorts. “It’s not covered in shit. It’s just melted chocolate,” he says as the girls dive into their own conversation about the crapshoot that is Newington. He missed this, just hanging out with his friends, being in Lancelot’s arms. He sighs contently and snuggles a little bit closer before they all have to focus up for trivia. Arthur feels Lancelot place a kiss on the top of his head and looks up to see him smile.

“You know,” starts Lancelot with a small smile. “Since Mordred started the coup, Penney’s is cutting back hours, so I’ll only have to work on Tuesdays and Thursdays now.”

Arthur perks right up and practically beams at the boy from the boonies. “Really? What about Julliard? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me. I don’t mind you working, honest.”

Lancelot shrugs and kisses away the worry lines appearing on Arthur’s forehead. “I want to do this. I deserve to have a bit of a break, you know? Besides, I can’t let Pawpatine suffer without my rustic charm and acquaintance with libertarianism.”

Arthur chuckles and looks across The Thirsty Moose as Yvain bursts through the door, Lion in tow with their matching collars, holding pudding cups that were in fact on sale this week. He and Gawain end up in a screaming match about Demoulas versus Janetos as the host for trivia night comes on the mic ready to start. Lancelot laces their fingers together as the first round starts. By the end of the night, Arthur is the happiest he’s been in weeks as they crush the Orkney’s for the third week in a row with the love of his life wrapped around him.


End file.
